March 20. "George Hotel," Billsbury.—Arrived here yesterday afternoon. Mother made up her mind to come with me, being very anxious, she said, to hear one of my splendid speeches. She brought luggage enough to last for a week, and insisted on taking her poodle Carlo, who was an awful nuisance, in the train. He growled horribly at old TOLLAND and BLISSOP when they came to see me at the Hotel before dinner. Very awkward. TOLLAND wanted to put before me the state of the case with regard to registration expenses. The upshot was that the Candidate is expected to subscribe £80 a year to the Association for this purpose, which I eventually agreed to do. Found fourteen letters waiting for me. No. 1 was from Miss POSER, the Secretary of the Billsbury Women's Suffrage League, asking me to receive a small deputation on the question, and to lay my views before them. No. 2 from the Anti-Vaccination League, stating that a deputation had been appointed to meet me, in order to learn my views, and requesting me to fix a date. No. 3 and No. 4, from two local lodges of Oddfellows, each declaring it to be of the highest importance that I should become an Oddfellow and proposing dates for my initiation. Nos. 5, 6 and 7 were from Secretaries of funds for the restoration or building of Churches and Chapels, appealing for subscriptions. Nos. 8, 9, and 10, from three more local Cricket Clubs, who have elected me an Honorary Member, and want subscriptions. No. 11 from a Children's Meat Tea Fund. No. 12 asked me to subscribe to a Bazaar, and to attend its opening in June. No. 13, from the local Fire Brigade, and No. 14 from the Secretary of the Local Society for improving the Breed of Bullfinches, recommending this "national object" to my favourable notice. Shall have to keep a Secretary, likewise a book of accounts. Where is it all going to end?
The Mass Meeting went off well enough. The Assembly Rooms were crammed. (The Meteor says, with its usual accuracy and good taste, "The attendance was small, the proceedings were dull. A wonderful amount of stale Jingoism was afterwards swept up by the caretakers from the floor. Our Conservative friends are so wasteful.") I was adopted as Candidate almost unanimously, only ten hands being held up against me. One or two questions were asked—one about local option, which rather stumped me—but I managed to express great sympathy with the Temperance party without, I hope, offending publicans.
Carlo somehow or other got out of the hotel and followed us to the meeting without being noticed. Poodles are all as cunning as Old Nick. He lay quite low in some corner or other, until Colonel CHORKLE was in the middle of a tremendous appeal to "the stainless banner which 'as so often been borne to triumph by Billsbury's embattled chivalry." The Colonel thumped on the table very hard, and Carlo, I suppose, had his eye on him and thought he was going to thump me. At any rate he sprang out and dashed at the Colonel, barking furiously. I had to seize him and take him outside. The Colonel turned quite pale. The Meteor says: "The war-like ardour which burns in the breast of Colonel CHORKLE was well-nigh extinguished by an intelligent dog, whose interruptions provoked immense applause." I had to apologise profusely to the Colonel afterwards. Mrs. CHORKLE looked daggers at me. Mother was delighted with the meeting. She has written about it to Aunt AMELIA.
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday Night, April 13.—So long since Lord STALBRIDGE parted company from RICHARD GROSVENOR that he forgets manners and customs of House of Commons. Not being satisfied with choice made by Committee of Selection of certain Members on Committee dealing with Railway Rates and Charges, STALBRIDGE writes peremptory letter to Chairman, giving him severe wigging; correspondence gets into newspapers; House of Commons, naturally enough, very angry. Not going to stand this sort of thing from a mere Peer, even though he be Chairman of North-Western Railway. Talk of making it case of privilege. Sort of thing expected to be taken up from Front Bench, or by WHITBREAD, or some other Member of standing. Somehow, whilst thing being thought over and talked about, SEXTON undertakes to see it through. As soon as questions over tonight, rises from below Gangway, and in his comically impressive manner, announces intention of putting certain questions to JOHN MOWBRAY, Chairman of Committee of Selection. Ordinary man would have put his questions and sat down. But this a great occasion for SEXTON. Domestic difficulties in Irish Party kept him away from Westminster for many weeks. No opportunity for Windbag to come into action; now is the time, as champion of privileges of House of Commons. Position one of some difficulty. Not intending to conclude with a Motion, he would be out of order in making a speech. Could only ask question. Question couldn't possibly extend over two minutes; two minutes, nothing: with the Windbag full, bursting after compulsory quiescence since Parliament opened.
SEXTON managed admirably; kept one eye on SPEAKER, who from time to time moved uneasily in chair. Whenever he looked like going to interrupt, SEXTON lapsed into interrogatory, which put him in order; then went on again, patronising JOHN MOWBRAY, posing as champion of privileges of House, and so thoroughly enjoying himself, that only a particularly cantankerous person could have complained. Still, it was a little long. "This isn't SEXTON'S funeral, is it?" HARCOURT asked, in loud whisper.
